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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28617597">Late Night Bonding</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadishScribe/pseuds/DeadishScribe'>DeadishScribe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Lower Decks (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Bonding, Awkward Flirting, Banter, Boimler being Boimler, Bonding, Crewmates - Freeform, Drabbles, Drunk Texting, F/M, Ficlets, Flirting, Gen, Inspired by Fanfiction, Mariner being a Mariner, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Playful Bullying, Tags May Change, Texting, headcanons, i love these two</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:47:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,582</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28617597</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadishScribe/pseuds/DeadishScribe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I saw another fic in which Mariner and Boimler were messaging each other late at night and... was inspired. So, I've decided to make a little collection of them having messaging convos!</p><p>The inspiring fic in question is Midnight Revelations by AshDoesFandom, so please, check it out!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Brad Boimler &amp; Beckett Mariner, Brad Boimler/Beckett Mariner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Drunk Once Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm not entirely sure how I like the formatting, so if you have any suggestions, please let me know! AO3 and I don't always agree in regards to formatting, so I just wanna make sure it's easier for people to read and be able to switch between the story and messages themselves with as much ease as possible.</p><p>Edit note: I've altered it in an attempt to make what is and what isn't messaging more clear using a combo of bolding and blockquote. I like it for now, but it might change in the future. Thank you all for your patience!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He laid there, resting as he read up on fresh regulations and guidelines. To exactly no one’s surprise, StarFleet loved writing new ones on a seemingly daily basis. Not that Boimler was complaining. He lived for this kind of stuff. He was also totally bullied for it. At least, by Mariner. Speaking of the Devil, the one and only Beckett Mariner, clumsily made her way up and into her bunk. ‘<em>Clumsily</em>’ being the operative word. She was clearly drunk, or at least tipsy.</p><p>That was when he decided to switch his PADD over from official documents to the direct crew </p><p>messaging app—or the DCM for short.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Boimler, ensign: </b>Are you drunk?</p>
</blockquote><p>He heard the chime of her own PADD a split second later, followed by a belabored groan. It was a few more moments before he received a reply.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Mariner, ensign: </b>Yes, Boims, I arm… ok, only a little, I’ve been trying to cut back on the ale. Cat doc said it ain’t good for my liver. And I don’t wanna run out too quick yknow</p>
  <p><b>Boimler, ensign:</b><em> Of course you are</em>, and of course it’s contraband.</p>
</blockquote><p>Boimler guessed autocorrect was saving her from… everything in regards to their conversation. It could only help so much though.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Mariner: </b>Yeah well maybe you should help me get rid of it sometime, Y’know, so I can be the best officer I can be sooner rather than later or some shit and you can stop being an uptight a-hole boy-o</p>
</blockquote><p>She was so full of it.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Boimler, ensign: </b>At least be more careful next time? You stepped on me.</p>
  <p><b>Mariner, ensign: </b>Sorry <em>princess</em>. Anything else I can help you with? I would’ve figured you’d like getting stepped on ehehehfhehehhdhdj</p>
</blockquote><p>He decided to ignore that last part, if for no other reason than maintaining his sanity. There was no way for him to win that one.</p><p>It was at this point, however, that he noticed the lack of notification noises above him. It was late, so she must've decided to be more courteous to her fellow crew mates for once, surprisingly enough. He figured he should do the same from what he guessed was a glare from a dead eyed Rutherford through the darkness.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Boimler, ensign: </b>Maybe stop being a pain in the ass, that would be nice for a change.</p>
</blockquote><p>It was much easier being brave through a screen than face to face. Did that make him a coward? Maybe. Did he care? Maybe.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Mariner, ensign: </b>Oooooo Boims did a swear!!! No can dough though, Boimster, it’s kinda my MO. </p>
  <p><b>Boimler, ensign: </b>I noticed. Maybe you should sleep it off.</p>
  <p><b>Mariner, ensign: </b>Mayhaps… or mayhaps we can gossip for a bit instead of you looking at boring shit &gt;:3</p>
</blockquote><p>Somehow, she always knew what he was up to. It was almost creepy. He was, frankly, surprised she took note at all. She was a badass space adventurer and he was… well, himself. The least he could do was be honest about the situation. Right?</p><p>And for some reason she was still using those weird old earth symbols. What were they called again? Emotitrons?</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Boimler, ensign: </b>Oh gods, what is it now?</p>
  <p><b>Mariner, ensign: </b>Did you <em>sea </em>the way Ruthy was eyeing Tendi the other day? All respectful like, of coarse, but still. He’s almost like a cartoon with his big ol puppy doggy eyes.</p>
</blockquote><p>Seriously? This is what she wants to talk about? She can’t even use the right words, and she wanted to talk about their best friends like some sort of match making dating sim? </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Boimler, ensign: </b>Seriously?</p>
  <p><b>Mariner, ensign: </b>Yeah, why arent yoou</p>
</blockquote><p>He didn’t have much of a response, and was about to put his PADD away until he saw the typing indicator, and before long more messages, one after the other. Ding. Ding. <em>Ding</em>.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Mariner, ensign: </b>Ok, you got a point—as lovely as they are</p>
  <p>And as certain I am they’re into each other </p>
  <p>And all that subtle if ever present sexual tension…</p>
  <p>What if… Tendi hooked up with that Gyltar babe from alpha shit? Eh? Eh? What the fuck was her name.. G’Lana? F’Tor’dara? Idk man, it doesn’t matter, <em>they would work great together and who don’t dig a good li wlw eh</em></p>
</blockquote><p>The woman was barely making sense at this point. Although, oddly enough, he almost found himself in agreement. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Boimler, ensign: </b>Hate to say it, but you have a point in a way—if things went south between Tendi and Rutherford, it would tear our group apart.</p>
  <p><b>Mariner, ensign: </b>Tru tru. I like the gig we got you’re right. Good call boims. Oooh or what about Rutherford and Billuos!</p>
  <p><b>Boimler, ensign: </b>I’m <em>really </em>not comfortable thinking about senior officers like that. Especially not Billups. Ew.</p>
  <p><b>Mariner, ensign: </b>pfffft, mega lame-o of you. Come on, there’s something inherently hot about those kinds of power dynamics ami rjgbt?</p>
  <p><b>Boimler, ensign:</b> Why couldn’t you have supported me and Barb like that?</p>
</blockquote><p>Nothing. Silence. Not a peep, and no texting bubble. Maybe it was time for him to take the initiative, she had been pushing for him to do so after all.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Boimler, ensign: </b>I mean, yeah, turns out I had a parasite, but you didn’t <em>really </em>have any evidence at the time, and even thought it was her in the beginning! Why act like that? If I didn’t know better I’d say you actually <em>cared</em>.</p>
</blockquote><p>Again, nothing. A most worrying nothing. An absolutely deafening nothing. </p><p>He heard a rustle above him, then suddenly a shadowy shape peering down at him from the upper left of his vision. One with dangly bits, dangly bits that he identified as hair. Mariner’s hair. With the night time lighting back dropping her head, she appeared to be some sort of dark angel of vengeance. The only other details he could make out was her glare and the sheer… anger wasn’t the right word. What he saw in her eyes was more personal than anger.</p><p>“What the fuck man?” She hissed, ‘lightly’ smacking him upside the head. This in turn elicited a yelp out of him and yet another crew member throwing an expletive their way to, quote, ‘<em>shut the fuck up some of us are trying to sleep</em>’. </p><p>Stupid Jen.</p><p>At that, Mariner coiled back up to her bunk, where Boimler could swear he heard furious, furious typing.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Mariner, ensign: </b>Seriosuly fucker? I didn’t know you were in the habit of asking rick questions</p>
  <p>I mean seriously</p>
  <p>What the fuck</p>
  <p>Fuck you</p>
  <p>Fuck off</p>
</blockquote><p>This was… unexpected.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Boimler, ensign: </b>Woah woah woah, ok there, easy. It was just a question.</p>
  <p><b>Mariner, ensign: </b>That’s what they all say.</p>
  <p><b>Boimler, ensign: </b>I don’t even get why it was a “rick” question to begin with</p>
</blockquote><p>Ok, that last part really was just to be a dick. All’s fair in love and war, he simply wasn’t sure which this was.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Mariner, ensign: </b>You said I don’t care </p>
  <p><b>Boimler, ensign: </b>It doesn’t feel like it some days.</p>
  <p><b>Mariner, ensign: </b>Well I do you DICK. Or maybe I don’t now. Who’s to say</p>
  <p><b>Boimler, ensign: </b>Whatever, then how do you explain all the bullying and the hazing? Risking my life on a regular basis?</p>
  <p><b>Mariner, ensign: </b>It’s how I show affection. </p>
  <p>And besides I wouldn’t put you at risk if I couldn’t keep you safe dummy</p>
  <p>And another thing I didn’t want what happened to Angie to happen to you so hush and stop making it such a big deal</p>
</blockquote><p>That was… oddly sweet?</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Boimler, ensign: </b>Careful, I’ll start to think you actually care</p>
  <p><b>Mariner, ensign: </b>Careful yourself there buddy boy-o</p>
  <p><b>Boimler, ensign: </b>About what?</p>
  <p><b>Mariner, ensign: </b>That mouth of yours getting you in trouble </p>
</blockquote><p>Wouldn’t be the first time</p><p>He really didn’t care to remember all the things she could possibly be referring to. He also wasn’t sure he wanted to think about her commenting on his mouth.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Mariner, ensign: </b>But hey if you want me to be supportive there’s that very nice Phyojsj</p>
  <p>Phyolosiuy</p>
  <p>Phyogagolk</p>
  <p>Plant person</p>
  <p>What’s her name again?</p>
  <p>Too drink to remember</p>
  <p>We’ll talk l8r</p>
  <p>Gutennockt </p>
</blockquote><p>Not long after all he heard was snoring. It was soothing enough to lull him into his own slumber, one blink after another until he finally drifted off to thoughts he never imagined he’d have.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. What a Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's been one hell of a day.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! As I added an edit in the previous notes, I've decided to signify the messages with blockquotes. I've also changed the messenger ID thingy to read by rank, last name, first name. I like it, and I'll use it for the time being, but further changes may come! Thank you for your patience, and I wish you a very pleasant read.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>Holy FUCK today was a Day</p>
</blockquote><p>Boimler chuckled as he gazed over to his PADD. He had been reading an old copy of Alice in Wonderland his parents had gifted him for his graduation when he got the notification vibration. It was Mariner, no surprise there, even at this time of night. He didn’t care though. In fact, it was almost soothing.</p>
<p>He decided not to follow that thought. Instead, his hand picked the device up as the other put down his tome and began typing away.</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><strong>Ensign Boimler, Brad:<em></em></strong>Oh, do tell</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>I got the shit jobs again—I probably did a million things to piss off the captain lolz—and while I can make them fun and all that, that doesn’t mean encouraging my fellow crew mates to be more than good obedient little drones isn’t utterly taxing</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Boimler, Brad:<em></em></strong>I’m going to pretend I wasn’t offended on several levels by that</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>You really shouldn’t, you’re terrible at it</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Boimler, Brad:<em></em></strong>At what, pretending not be offended?</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett<em></em></strong><em>: </em>Pretending in general, you have zero value as a liar. I mean, just look at that one time we got called to the bridge after Ruthers screwed with the red alert system</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Boimler, Brad:<em></em></strong>W o w</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>:3</p>
</blockquote><p>She really was an ass, wasn’t she? And she enjoyed it too. He could just tell. Not like it was a secret in the first place, it was well known, but he had an extra, special sixth sense about it.</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>But hey, at least you’re not a Fletcher, amiright?</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Boimler, Boimler:<em></em></strong>Thanks… I guess?</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>I know, not a very high bar, BUT that doesn’t take away from the point either</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Boimler, Brad:<em></em></strong>Which is…?</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>You could be a lot worse</p>
  <p>But don’t let it go to your head</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Boimler, Brad:<em></em></strong>I couldn’t even if I wanted to. You never let me build any confidence </p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>Hey! That’s not fair!</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Boimler, Brad:<em></em></strong>Oh it isn’t? Then what, prey tell, do you do.</p>
</blockquote><p>There was a moment of silence. Boimler thought she might avoid it altogether, or shrug it off, but he was proven wrong.</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>Build character. <em>Your </em>character. And lots of it.</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Boimler, Brad:<em></em></strong>Uh huh. Sure. Whatever you say.</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>Look… I know I’m hard, but I’m only hard on you because I know you can take it.</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Boimler, Brad:<em></em></strong>That’s what all bullies say. That and “it’s just a joke, bro”</p>
</blockquote><p>That sent a tinge of guilt through his chest. Just a tinge though. What he said wasn’t inaccurate, in his mind, but… to directly imply, and almost flat out call her a bully, felt a bit too far. Or was it? She had said just as bad things to him, if not worse. They weren’t school children anymore. </p>
<p>So why did he feel guilty?</p>
<p>Once again, there were several moments before she responded, the typing bubble popping up and disappearing a few times. He thought she might’ve just given up on the conversation until she finally messaged him back.</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>That was dick thing to say.</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Boimler, Brad:<em></em></strong>Like you don’t say dick things either.</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>Alright, you have a point there. I admit that it’s nice you seem to finally be growing some damn teeth. </p>
  <p>And biting with them too.</p>
  <p>Mrrow ;)</p>
</blockquote><p>Had she just… did she just <em>flirt </em>with him? No, impossible. Or was it? </p>
<p>No, it wasn’t.</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><strong>Ensign Boimler, Brad:<em></em></strong>I <em>almost</em> can’t believe you just sent that. Almost.</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>Oh you can’t act surprised. </p>
</blockquote><p>Now she was the one with the point. Certainly matched her M.O.</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>Look, when it comes down to it, you're a rule-abiding goody-two-shoes. Rules are nice and all but we keep coming back to the fact that they often get in the way, and time and time again I prove that fact to you, yet it doesn’t change a damn thing.</p>
  <p>Ok?</p>
</blockquote><p>Something told Boimler it wasn’t as simple as that, but he wouldn’t push it. That wouldn’t at all wise.</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><strong>Ensign Boimler, Brad:<em></em></strong>Ok ok whatever you say.</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>See? Even my mildly improper grammar is rubbing off on you. No extra, useless, pointless commas! Remember when it used to absolutely bug the hell out of you like a dork?</p>
</blockquote><p>Oh gods she was right. It was a horrible day indeed. And there she went again, insulting him. Though, he supposed he had to admit that it was kind of endearing, in a weird, Mariner-esque way.</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><strong>Ensign Boimler, Brad:<em></em></strong>Yeah, whatever, as if you don’t ever use commas. Why even be my friend anyhow if that’s all true?</p>
</blockquote><p>He was pushing his luck with that one, he could feel it. There was a split second pang of worry. Would she truly say ‘<em>Alright then, fucker, bye bye’</em>? Why did he care? What made him care? He’s asked why they were friends so many times, why did it get harder and harder each time? It’s not like she was wrong this time. She rarely was. Then again, there was that Ferengi, and then Barb. He was struggling for further examples, however. </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>Admit it, you’d be lost without me and you know it. </p>
</blockquote><p>There was an odd sense of relief, almost as if his abdomen was deflating. Boimler wished emotions weren’t so complex and overwhelming and all that mess. He wished he could just lock it away and devote his life to StarFleet. Mariner didn't make it easy for him. </p>
<p>This, of course, kept leading him back to the questions of why and how and where and all that life nonsense.</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><strong>Ensign Boimler, Brad:<em></em></strong>Yeah. Totally. You’re a wonderful mentor and I couldn’t be happier with your teaching.</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>Careful Boims that sarcasim’ll prematurely age you</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Boimler, Brad:<em></em></strong>No more than you already do</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>Touche</p>
  <p>Good boy, you’re learning well</p>
</blockquote><p>The ‘<em>good boy</em>’ comment stirred things deep within that he wasn’t going to examine now. Or ever. Especially not in regards to her of all people. Do not examine, do not observe, do not interact. Ignore the swirling pod of space whales slowly building in the depths of his stomach.</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><strong>Ensign Boimler, Brad:<em></em></strong>Whatever. You wish and you wash and you flip and you flop.</p>
</blockquote><p>He hoped he was using the slang right, his parents used old lingo all the time growing up. Still did whenever they messaged. </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>God you’re a dork </p>
  <p>But you’re my dork</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Boimler, Brad:<em></em></strong>“Your dork”? What does that even mean?</p>
  <p><strong>Ensign Mariner, Beckett:<em></em></strong>Don’t think about it too hard you’ll burst a blood vessel in your brain</p>
  <p>Niiiight! ;)</p>
</blockquote><p>Confusing as ever, that one. He did what she said to though and picked his book back up. It proved difficult to focus on in the end, turned the overhead reading light off, and rolled over in an attempt to think of anything or anyone but Mariner until he was lulled into the sweet embrace of blissful sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you enjoyed reading! And I hope it's at least somewhat easy to do so. In any case, your viewership is appriciated, and your support even more!</p>
<p>As always, stay safe<br/>With Love,<br/>The Kinda Sorta Dead Guy &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello hello! I hope you enjoyed the fic, and I have another on the way! Though, formatting is a bit of a pain and I'm working on the next chapter of Reunions, so it may be a few days before the next is posted. Like I said, looking for feed back on the formatting, so please let me know if you have suggestions (respectfully of course)!</p><p>As always, please be safe and take care!<br/>With love,<br/>That Sorta Kinda Dead Guy &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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